Wingless One - Book One
by CrazyClogs8
Summary: A young Celestrian's journey to find the ones that caused her to fall from the skies
1. Chapter 1

**Thank you for taking the time to read some of my work. I greatly appreciate it, and hope you enjoy.**

On a path of gravel, brown birds with speckled breasts hopped to and fro, searching for stray ants or berries that might be sitting around, ripe for the picking. The song of their kin filled the air, mingling with the ever-present roar of the falls just up the hill, and the usual clanking of hammer on anvil from the blacksmith's. Back on the path, the birds scattered and took to their wings, as a small boy barrelled out of a cottage a few yards away in pursuit of his pet Labrador, shouting with laughter as he gave chase. The dog slowed to a sort of trot as it came across the hooves of a horse, sniffing excitedly and tail wagging. The rider atop the horse nodded to the boy as he carried on, towards the stable just down the lane. The dog decided it wanted a run round the block, and the jovial chase continued. Closer to the well at the centre of the village was a little marketplace, and though it was a far cry from the heaving masses of a city, it was lively all the same, trading exotic fruits like pomegranates and mangoes from across the sea, though stocks were beginning to run low so the populace turned to more traditional and local products like leafy vegetables and game. Thatched cottages surrounded the market, looking in some ways like gingerbread houses in their quaint and humble design. Many of these cottages were home to woodcutters and their families, as there was a mill ten minutes from the village where they earned enough gold to support themselves. Being tucked away in mountains and dense forest, this trade was all the village had to offer in terms of work, and those in search of a more exciting life should use the mountain pass and cross the border into Stornway.

Close to the falls was a small rose garden, built up around the Guardian statue. It depicted a robed figure with a crown of flowers and angelic wings spread out from its back, hands clasped and head bowed in prayer. No one knew exactly when the thing had been put there, but it'd seemed a good place so they didn't move it, choosing instead to tend the flora around it and pay homage to their honoured Guardian. What they could never know was that said Guardian was in fact hovering nearby, frowning at the statue and thinking of how it didn't look an awful lot like her.

Where it was difficult to tell what gender or age the angelic figure was supposed to be, the Guardian appeared as a girl of just fifteen with rosy-pale skin and flowing silver-white hair that curled in the latter half of its length, ringlets brushing her waistband. At an earlier age she'd decided to style it, but minimally, and so two slim braids hung just in front of her ears, long enough to touch her collarbone, but not so long that they'd get in the way. Her almond-shaped eyes were pure black at first glance, but if she stood at the right angle according to the sun, her irises would sparkle and shimmer with a full spectrum of colours, from pink to blue to green to yellow to amber and so on. She wore a beige tunic, and on top of that full cingulums around her shoulders and hips, the leather dyed pale red. Her supple boots tapped together as she continued to contemplate the statue's appearance, and the small, feathered wings on her backplane flapped gently to keep her airborne.

As a Celestrian, created by the Almighty to watch over the weak and foolish mortals, she was superior to her charges in every way, not in the least because of her wings, but also because of the slim halo that hovered over the top of her head, creating a permanent ring of shine in her hair, and because of her lifespan – she was in fact many centuries old, but this hadn't driven her mad like it would many mortals. Instead, it bestowed wisdom and thoughtfulness, despite her still being very young and inexperienced.

The only similarities between her and the statue were the wings, truth be told, though the village must've had several Guardians before her, she supposed, so it would make sense that that statue didn't look like anyone. How tedious it would've been carving and placing a new statue for every Guardian. This method worked better for everyone – the Celestrians were spared unnecessary labour, and the mortals could continue their lives undisturbed. As she watched, the Guardian spotted an old lady in a straw hat tending to the garden, dead-heading the roses and pulling up weeds. The bush she was pruning soon looked much neater and tidier, the vibrant pink flowers covered with liquid diamond droplets from the falls. The Guardian smiled. Her favourite place in the village was being well-looked after.

"You have come far, Lyra."

Turning her head, the Guardian looked over at the other angelic individual hovering next to her. He was a bald, grey-eyed, severe-looking Celestrian whose powerful wings were befitting of his superior status, reaching almost to his shins. Unlike his younger companion, his attire was black, blue and red, leather pteruges forming a kind of fauld resting on his hips. Beneath this he wore a tunic and pants, and sturdy boots that, ironically, weren't often used for walking, despite him spending so much time in the Protectorate – the mortal realm. He seemed to prefer flying when not at home.

"I must confess I had my doubts about your promotion to Guardianship in my stead," he continued, folding his arms. "But the inhabitants of Angel Falls continue to live in peace and safety. This is proof of your devotion."

Lyra blinked and bowed her head, but cursed herself for doing so. She'd always been inexplicably shy and averse to compliments, and in recent years her efforts had gone into overcoming these flaws. When she wasn't training or studying, that is. Her apparent humble nature infuriated many she knew, and she was often told that she'd never succeed unless she started expecting more from herself and set the bar higher. For example, if there was a task to be done, she'd perform to the best of her abilities, then inform the task-giver of exactly what happened. No more, no less. If anything was amiss, she'd inform them of it also. Often she'd get a simple thank you – as much as they made her cringe, compliments were nice once in a while. But when she was showered with praise and everyone made her accomplishment into something it really wasn't, she had this instinctive urge to flee, and while having said urge she fidgeted and made an idiot of herself. Frankly, wanting to run away at all made her feel pathetic, never mind the fidgeting. Thus, any free time she spent trying to learn how to be assertive, so it would boost her confidence and therefore be a general improvement. But, in this instance, she slipped back into the old habit of clasping her hands and avoiding eye-contact. The older Celestrian smiled, as if recalling some amusing memory. This was proved by his next words.

"When Apus major bade me 'Aquila, you are to take Lyra as your apprentice', I never imagined I would see you bloom so. You are worthy of you title indeed, Guardian of Angel Falls."

The compliments were like weights on her shoulders, but she tried to not let them be, and at least held her head up to look at her master. However, his steely gaze was no longer upon her, but the mile or so of winding dirt track that led up to the village. Concerned, Lyra peered into the distance to see what was wrong.

Four or five hundred yards from the village, amid a small clump of white oak trees, two figures were emerging from the greenery. One was a girl that appeared to be Lyra's physical age, perhaps younger, in a simple dress and apron, an orange headscarf keeping her dark hair out of her face. Behind her was an old man in a woollen cloak, hobbling along with his walking stick. After a moment or two, he came to a halt, the girl stopping also when she realised he wasn't next to her anymore.

"Don't ever get old, my dear Erinn," he panted. "You don't ever want to get old."

"Oh, Grandpa!" She stayed by him as he assumed a meandering pace. "It's not much further now."

Unbeknownst to them, however, the bushes some distance ahead were rustling frantically, only just concealing some bizarre-looking native creatures. Two were slimes, teardrop-shaped globules that hopped to and fro and enjoyed leading travellers astray. The third was a cruelcumber, aptly named after the vegetable it bore a likeness to, though this creature had a lolling red tongue and beady eyes, and hefted a polearm likely stolen from some unfortunate passer-by, cackling to itself as it lay in wait.

"These wicked creatures must not be allowed to ambush innocent members of your flock, Lyra," said Aquila. "Come. It is time to fulfil our duty as Guardians."

With that, he took off at high speed towards the village gates, Lyra close behind. She kept an eye on Erinn and her grandfather, keen to make sure of their safety. However, she had the more pressing matter of actually defending that safety to attend to, and thus focused on landing correctly, bending her knees so she didn't stumble. Master and apprentice had cornered the miscreants in a copse of trees, blocking any possible route towards the approaching mortals, who remained oblivious to the danger. Almost the moment his feet touched the ground, Aquila drew his sword and hacked at the nearest slime, all in one fluid motion. Blue droplets described a circle as the creature was cut neatly in half, becoming a sapphire puddle. Following her master's lead, Lyra drew her copper gladius and slashed in a diagonal arc. Her slime didn't go down as quickly as the other one, but it was still a relatively easy kill. The cruelcumber, however, took the opportunity to fight back while its attackers were busy, and Lyra winced as the spear found her shoulder and blood leaked down her arm inside her sleeve, creating a long line of brown blotches on her tunic. Ignoring the pain, she swung thrice – left, right, uppercut. The cruelcumber's hide split under her assault, exposing pale green flesh within. It then went limp, dropping the spear. Breathing heavily at the suddenness of the scrap, Lyra tore a strip from the hem of her tunic and used this to crudely bind her shoulder, until such a time that it could be healed. And the garment was ruined anyway, so she might as well make use of it while she could. It seemed that their intervention had been not a moment too soon, as the two mortals rounded the corner less than ten seconds after the ruckus was over.

"Look!" Erinn said, pointing to the village. "We're here!" Her grandfather sighed in relief.

"Ahh…I honestly thought I'd never set eyes on this place again. But here we are at last. Home."

Erinn tilted her head back, grinning.

"Don't be so melodramatic, Grandpa! The village Guardian will have been watching over us the whole time. Nothing bad could ever have happened."

Turning her eyes down, she clasped her hands together and began to pray:

"Benevolent Lyra, thank you for protecting us on our journey."

As she and her grandfather moved on, they remained unaware of the pulsating, sea-green gemstone that had appeared as she prayed, and it now drifted into Lyra's outstretched hands. She stared at it, enthralled as it hovered over her palms.

"Behold," said Aquila from behind her. "Benevolessence. The crystallisation of mortals' gratitude towards we who watch over them. As Celestrians, it is our cardinal duty to offer up this sacred substance unto mighty Yggdrasil, the Great World Tree."

Of course, Lyra knew this. She had learnt it while being tutored for Guardianship, though she still wasn't sure if 'learnt' was too tender a word for the years of studying and memorising she'd had to do as part of the course. As a Celestrian, she had a far greater capacity for retaining information than humans, mostly down to her longer lifespan and therefore better memory. But that didn't mean she couldn't forget things, and Aquila had not been satisfied until he was certain she could recite her teachings, and then again, but backwards this time – those lessons in particular had been a headache. Even so, while learning these things, Lyra had made sure she understood them in perfect fullness, rather than simply repeating them parrot-like to convince others that she was working hard. If she didn't understand her duties, how could she carry them out? In her opinion, understanding was better than knowing. She was distracted from her thoughts as the benevolessence disappeared into her chest, presumably as a method of storage, though she was still a little concerned by the thought of an object passing through her. Aquila, on the other hand, was used to it, and judging by his lack of alarm this was completely normal.

"Come," he said, guiding her once more towards her objective. "Let us return to the Observatory, that you may make your offering."

Nodding, Lyra copied him as he bent down, wings stretched out to their fullest, then shot upwards like an arrow from a bowstring, leaving a choking cloud of dust in his wake. In moments they were several hundred feet up and climbing fast. Lyra could see Angel Falls, her village, already tiny below her. Despite having only watched over it for a few years, less than nothing to a Celestrian, she'd become very attached to the place, and felt unease coiling in her gut as she left the village's inhabitants unguarded. While her duty as a Guardian was to protect a settlement to the end of gathering benevolessence, she felt that, given half the chance, she'd look after these mortals simply to make them happy. Perhaps she was letting her emotions get in the way of her duty. Perhaps she was too soft. Or perhaps she was thinking too much about it and should concentrate on offering up the benevolessence.

Up and up they climbed, eyes fixed on a point in the heavens, neither watching as the Protectorate seemingly became a flat disc that hung suspended from the horizon. Wind ruffled their clothing, though the roar in their ears blocked out any of the resultant flapping sounds, or indeed each other, should they have decided to speak. Then, after a solid ten minutes of ascent, they burst through the cloud layer, and were met with a bowl-like valley of white stretching hundreds of miles in every direction, looking for all the world like sparkling, unblemished snow. The sky was a dome of brilliant blue that seemed to go on forever, somehow making Lyra think of the curious snow-globe ornaments she'd seen in the village shop. Another comparison to the trinkets was the building as the centrepiece, but that was where the similarities ended. While the miniature versions had been cottages and churches, the giant stone structure that they flew towards seemed terribly out of place, as it just hung in the sky with nothing to support it. The whole thing bore some small resemblance to a wedding cake – many levels that became progressively smaller the further up they went. At the very top was a speck of greenery, but Lyra had never been allowed up there so was unsure exactly what it looked like. Even though the Observatory was her home, and she'd thus been living there for centuries, the sheer size of the place was enough to render her speechless, especially as she and Aquila swooped down beneath it to use the star-shaped entrance in the lowest floor. It looked even more imposing at such close range.

Then they were inside, touching down in the main hall. A few Celestrians noted their arrival, but they weren't exactly smothered in gratitude or anything – this was something Lyra had been secretly worried about, but now grinned at the foolish concern. Aquila turned to her.

"You know what you must do next: Report to Apus Major. I have other matters that I must attend to. Excuse me."

And with that, he started off down one of the hallways. A small group of apprentices happened to be passing, and they shied away from him. Well, Aquila was quite notorious for his imposing look and some would say cold and abrupt manner, so this wasn't so surprising. Lyra made a quick trip to the healer – it wouldn't do to present herself to Apus Major in such a state. As her shoulder was cleaned and dressed, she stared about the hall. Like most other rooms in the Observatory, it had a high vaulted ceiling, hexagonally-shaped flagstones beneath her feet, and any sound echoed as if it wanted to be heard for as great a distance as possible. This meant that running around and shouting simply wasn't the done thing, unless you were particularly young and were playing some game, though such activities were only permitted outside. While it wasn't totally silent – there was a light chatter in the air – Lyra felt a bit self-conscious as she climbed the steps towards the great hall on the floor above, as her boots made an uncomfortably loud thudding. It could've been worse though; some of the older Celestrians wore shoes with harder soles, meaning that their footsteps were more often than not an ear-splitting clack-clack-clack that attracted the attention of all and any nearby. Lyra vowed never to wear the heeled shoes, that for some reason were deemed fashionable, for this very reason. Thankfully, stone gave way to carpet, and the great hall stretched out in front of her, the focal point in the room being a throne, upon which sat Apus Major. He was perhaps the oldest Celestrian among them, rumoured to have lived a millennia, though to Lyra he played the part of teacher and master whenever Aquila was off-duty. Apus Major sported a thick, wiry beard that came down to his stomach, though was balding on the top of his head, so among a couple of others he lacked the ring of shine due to a halo. In general, he was kind and thoughtful, always willing to listen and consider all opinions. Gathering her courage, as there were others she'd have to speak in front of, Lyra gave a formal bow.

"Apus Major, sir. I am here to deliver my report."

"Well met, Lyra," he said warmly, rising from his throne to greet her. "I trust your absence has not been so lengthy that you forget your old master!"

Lyra smiled.

"No, sir."

"Your report, child?"

"I have completed my first task as a Guardian and acquired a crystal of benevolessence."

"My congratulations," He nodded approvingly. "You have performed your duties well thus far, albeit under Aquila's watchful gaze. But the time has come for you to spread your own wings. What say you? Are you ready to undertake your duties alone?"

Lyra bit her lip, all too aware that many others were watching. One in particular was getting a kick out of her nervousness, snarking and tilting his head in that overconfident way of his, letting his white hair fall in front of dark grey eyes. His name was Solaris, and he was Lyra's insolent older brother. She honestly didn't understand why he hated her, though she knew that for some reason he blamed her for the death of their father, and the loathing had grown from there. Their father, Orion, had once been the Guardian of a place called Coffinwell, but there was some sort of conflict three hundred years ago that saw him die defending his mortal charges. Lyra had no clear memories of him, as she was at the physical age of four when it happened, though she could feel horribly empty sometimes, not knowing one of the two people that caused her existence. Being forever denied knowing him, in fact. Solaris, however, remembered him very clearly, and often made speeches about how great their father was and if Lyra hadn't come along and ruined everything then he'd still be alive. Again, she didn't understand the logic behind this, sometimes doubting that there was anything logical about her brother at all, but she held out as best she could under his constant assault. Just like with her father, she felt very sad sometimes about her only sibling hating her, but found some small comfort in her duty of helping the mortals. They showed gratitude for her presence, at least. And now that she had become a Guardian, it was time, as Apus Major had said, for her to spread her own wings. That meant having confidence enough to stand up for herself.

"I believe I am ready," she said as calmly and clearly as possible. Her old master chuckled in response.

"I see you are a confident apprentice, Lyra! Very good. The young have confidence where the old have experience."

Solaris bristled in displeasure, his wings twitching back and forth. Lyra ignored him and listened as Apus Major continued.

"And so we come to the next of your duties. As I am sure you are aware, after obtaining a crystal of benevolessence, you must offer it unto mighty Yggdrasil, who shelters us with Her nurturing boughs from atop the Observatory. She will soon bear fruit, at long last. Go now. Do as I have instructed."

Lyra bowed again, then turned and made for the door. She paused as she heard raised voices from the library just off to the side and, making sure that no one was watching, leaned in through the doorway. Within lay two entire walls that seemed to be made of books with a third housing tall windows, and by a table were Aquila and Columba, deep in conversation.

"Indeed?" the auburn-haired Celestrian was saying. "How amusing! I might have known."

"It is no laughing matter," Aquila retorted, putting his hands on the table. "Lyra is but a fledgling. What if something were to happen in the Protectorate?"

From the doorway, Lyra shivered as cold doubt raked her spine. It seemed that her promotion may not have been entirely her master's decision, if he thought her a 'fledgling' still. Whatever happened to 'you are worthy of your title'? Had he just been saying that? Had he been feeding her lies for some reason?

"Do you forget the tragedy of Corvus so soon?" Aquila said, a shadow falling across his eyes. Columba stiffened, then fiddled with an auburn braid, pushing her spectacles further up her nose.

"No, of course not. But we are forbidden to speak of it in the Observatory."

Aquila hung his head, eyes closed and expression pained. Lyra had never seen him like this before, and as with any that was hurt or sad, she felt an instinctive urge to help, to aid. This unfortunately meant that she fidgeted when she tried to keep still, and knocked over a stack of books by the door. Suddenly two pairs of bewildered eyes were on her, and she felt her knees press together.

"Lyra!" Aquila gasped, mortified. "H-How long have you been standing there?"

Unable to think of anything better, Lyra turned and fled, not even bothering to clean up the mess she had made. Far better to pretend nothing had happened, then come back when everything had calmed down. Once again, she made for the door, but swallowed as she saw it close behind someone with white hair. It was very clear what was about to happen. Still, she held her head high and stepped out into the open air. Despite them being several miles from ground level, the wind was gentle enough that any Celestrians walking the paths weren't swept from their feet to tumble to their doom far below. She had always wondered about this, but supposed that maybe it was Yggdrasil protecting them. Great World Tree aside, the Observatory sported ring after ring of gardens and pathways, and this spot in particular just outside the main doors was Lyra's favourite. She looked over at the wooden bench in the shade of a sycamore tree, remembering when she and her mother used to sit there and talk all day long, usually about nothing in particular. But those days were gone now that Lyra was a Guardian, and she had next to no time to herself, what with all the watching she'd have to do. It seemed that this skill was one she needed to improve, as a large feathered wing swooped in from the side and made her stagger.

"You always were a boot-licker," Solaris said blandly, as if this fact bored him no end.

"Leave me alone," Lyra bit out as she picked herself up. "I have no quarrel with you."

"Tell me, dear sister, how it is that I work so hard and expend so much effort, yet it is only you that is recognised. Explain to me why I have never been given a word of thanks for my labour."

They'd had this argument a hundred times – perhaps a thousand, even – and it always ended the same way. Lyra was determined not to bite the dust again, so she simply walked past him towards the steps leading up to Yggdrasil. For her efforts, she was knocked down.

"Flouncing off will not help you. I am waiting for my answer."

"I don't know," she said, defeated. "You never tell me what it is you do – how should I know why you are not praised?"

Solaris was indifferent to her honesty, though he seemed to find joy in his next barrage of insults:

"That's it. Pretend that you are innocent. You are under the illusion that were you to flutter your eyelashes, I would melt like Mother did. You were always the favourite child. Spoiled, arrogant and selfish."

Lyra felt tears welling in her eyes, even though she knew what he was saying couldn't be further from the truth. She had in fact never fluttered her eyelashes in memory, and she was not spoiled – that much she had learned from some of the mortal children she was charged with looking after. Solaris could tell nothing but lies, it seemed, and it would be best for everyone if she ignored him. Thus she focused on the path in front of her, paying no heed to her brother's claptrap. It was difficult, and she was soon in silent tears, but once they'd climbed high enough they reached a point restricted to only a few individuals, and for a time Lyra was one of them. Solaris attempted to lie and say he wished to be present for his sister's first offering of benevolessence, but the guard enforcing this restriction was very firm in his 'no'. Lyra sniffed as she continued to climb – someone who'd seen her grow up, someone who shared the same parents, hated everything about her. It felt like a kick in the gut knowing this. Perhaps the Almighty was testing her resolve to do the right thing. But why would she be tested so? She'd always tried to be a good Celestrian and apprentice by obeying her master and helping the mortals. So why was she suffering like this?

Lyra realised that she had been staring at the ground, lost in thought. Shaking her head, she took in her surroundings. It appeared that she'd climbed to the very top of the Observatory, to that speck of greenery she'd seen on the way up. Pillars, joined at the top, were arranged in a circle around Yggdrasil, which appeared as a mighty oak tree, standing around forty feet above Lyra's head. The emerald-green leaves rustled gently in the breeze, smaller branches swaying, yet it remained as it had been described in books, legends and stories: silent, steadfast and serene. Lyra was awed into speechlessness for a while, unable to get used to the incredible peace that surrounded the World Tree. Then she made her way forward, and the benevolessence passed back out from her chest into her hands. Humbly, she offered it. The pulsating crystal drifted up and up, and when it touched the bark of the main trunk, it disappeared. The blue energy left behind turned gold, and Yggdrasil sparkled as though made of a glittering substance. Then it returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.

"Behold. Is mighty Yggdrasil not truly beautiful?"

Blinking in surprise, Lyra turned to find Aquila watching from the top of the steps she'd recently ascended. He, like her, seemed to be pretending that the episode in the library had never occurred, and for this she was thankful.

"Return to Apus Major, Guardian of Angel Falls," he continued, approaching her. "He will give you further commands."

"Yes, master," she replied, but he stopped her as she made to walk past him.

"Lyra…calling you 'Guardian of Angel Falls' is both impractical and inconvenient. From now on, your full title will only be used for formalities. Do you accept this?"

Lyra smiled a bit, bowing her head.

"Yes, master."

"It is good that you succumb to my will so readily, my apprentice. Now, go. Return to your duties. I will bide here for a while…"

As she descended the steps, Lyra could have sworn he looked up at the heavens in sadness, but she kept her head down and pretended she didn't see anything. It wasn't her place to interfere with the affairs of her master. Besides, she now had a flock that needed guiding, and she'd best return to this duty as soon as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

"It really is weird…"

After lightly touching down on the grass, Lyra turned to the two local boys chatting just outside the village shop. The one on her right was Ivor, an older teenager with a blond flattop, maroon tunic, and a dagger strapped to his hip. A dagger that he'd never actually used, one might add. The boy on the left was his friend Hugo, who was also blond, but had a pageboy haircut and a green tunic, and was generally less of a pain.

"What?" he said in reply to Ivor's spoken thought. "You mean that name thingy on the Guardian statue?"

Lyra glanced at said statue, noted that a cat was wandering around in the garden area there, and returned her attention to the two boys.

"Of course I mean 'that name thingy', you dolt!" Ivor snapped, though he appeared to wander back into thought as he looked over at the statue. "I'm sure it said 'Aqui-' something before, but now it's 'Lyra'…"

"Really? It's said 'Lyra' for as long as I can remember."

Ivor gave his fists a frustrated shake.

"And how long is that, exactly? Do you even remember reading it before?"

"Huh," Hugo mumbled, rubbing the back of his head and smiling nervously. "That's…that's funny…I can't say that I do."

"You see?" Ivor folded his arms. "Everyone around here's weird. It's only just changed and people think it's been like that forever."

Hugo's eyes lit up, as clearly he'd thought of something.

"Ah-ha! It must be the village Guardian."

"Don't be stupid," Ivor sniffed. "There's no such thing as Guardians. They're just made-up rubbish. It's only Erinn that believes in all that stuff. She's such a dumb…er…brunette!"

His last words were more than a little hesitant. Lyra sighed – the boy was clearly smitten, yet it came out in bad behaviour and being a general pain in the backside. Why couldn't he just go to Erinn and tell her how he felt instead of making an idiot of himself? A small boy happened to be passing, and looked crossly at the mayor's son.

"He's so full of himself," he muttered, then looked at the statue. "Please, Guardian Lyra, teach him a lesson for us."

Well, she could hardly refuse a request like that, could she? Grinning, Lyra went over to Ivor and, taking advantage of the mortal weakness of being unable to see Celestrians, she flicked him between the eyes.

"Yaaaaah!" he squawked, hands covering his face. Hugo and the small boy jolted in shock, then the latter grinned as broadly as the Celestrian, and he left behind some benevolessence that she swiftly collected.

"The…" Ivor stuttered, getting a hold of himself. "The village Guardian, I presume? Oi, Guardian! I thought you were supposed to help people, not go around hitting them!"

"Whatever happened to 'made-up rubbish'?" Lyra pondered smilingly as she left them to their thoughts. She wasn't usually partial to pranking anybody for any reason, but this time, she just couldn't help herself. And she was, in a sense, fulfilling her duty. Still, she supposed that Aquila could be watching her, so got down to more serious tasks just in case. Some of these tasks included cleaning up the stables, and slipping an old lady her lost ring with the help of the cat that she saw earlier. But there was a sobering aspect of being a Guardian – Lyra saved that little boy from serious injury when a shelf in his house collapsed and almost dropped a heavy bucket on him. His father gave infinite praise when the bucket mysteriously deflected into the wall, well away from his son. It was probably just her, but the benevolessence she got from him seemed to shine brighter than the others. Sooner than expected, night began to fall over the village. Lyra was, at this time, perched in the bell tower in the roof of the church, watching over her flock. Her first day as an independent Guardian hadn't been easy, but was immensely fulfilling all the same. And she loved helping people, mortal or otherwise. It made her feel good about herself, like she was needed and appreciated. Well, actually her reason for helping people was a constant source of shame – it was selfish to only aid the mortals so she'd feel better. But she supposed her confidence was more in need of attention than her priorities in life, and left this for another day.

From her perch, Lyra soon spotted a winged individual landing just behind the inn, then beckoning her. Dropping down and using her wings to soften the impact, she approached him.

"You are taking your new role very seriously, I am glad to see," Aquila said. Then he smiled. "What is it? Do you feel your master does not trust you to work alone?"

Well, that was exactly what she felt, but his tone was joking and she had already chosen to take his words as a compliment, so she smiled back. Then she frowned, noticing that, while no longer the village Guardian, he was in Angel Falls.

"Master, might I ask why you are here?"

He looked at her for a moment, seemingly contemplating the meaning of the question, before answering.

"It is my duty now to patrol the entire Protectorate. Though you guard it well, I must sometimes revisit my old territory."

That made sense. And at least he wasn't there to make sure she hadn't messed up already. Or…that was what he'd said. Lyra grimaced as the doubt came again. Did her master really trust her at all? Thinking back to the library, it had seemed as though she was promoted against his will. Perhaps he really did think of her as a fledgling. Or perhaps this was a simple act of concern – just wanting to check on her wasn't a bad thing, was it? Shaking her head, Lyra decided that she thought entirely too much, and instead listened to Aquila's next words.

"As I am here, Lyra, there is one final lesson that I must teach you. As Guardians, it is our duty to tend to our mortal flock. But this means more than merely watching over the living. Sometimes we must help those who have passed away, but whose souls continue to roam the land."

Lyra bit her lip – such a fate sounded terrible. It only made sense that, as a Guardian, it was her duty to help those poor spirits that were stuck in the Protectorate instead of ascending to paradise where they belonged. It wasn't long before she noticed the transparent blue individual by the village shop, wandering to and fro, apparently in search of something. Nodding to Aquila, and breathing out to make sure she was calm, Lyra put on her friendliest smile and walked the short distance over the bridge.

"Hmph!" the ghost said crossly, his back to her. "Wot's wrong wiv people 'round 'ere nowadays? Why's everyone givin' me the cold shoulder?"

Lyra said very quietly and politely "Excuse me." He turned to look at her, seemed surprised that she could see him, then harrumphed.

"Oh, someone who's prepared to gimme the time o' day at last! Listen 'ere. Can you tell me 'ow come everyone's ignorin' me?"

He sort of trailed off on the last few words, his eyes going to her wings and halo.

"…'Ang on a minute… W-Wot's wiv the getup, eh? Y-You ain't a… Oh, my days, you are! Yer a Celestrian, ain'tcha? So I've… I'm already… I've breaved me last, haven't I? Go on, you can tell me. I can take it!"

Lyra wondered if he actually could take it, but didn't have it in her to lie.

"Yes," she said as kindly as possible. "You have passed on."

The ghost nodded to himself, then sighed in what sounded like relief.

"Cheers for bein' straight wiv me, miss. So, basically, I've kicked the bucket, right? Well, it's a good fing you told me. When I fought everyone was just ignorin' me, I was about ready to do meself in anyway! But now I know wot's wot, I can get on wiv it and… Well, you know. Rest in peace an' all that."

Still nodding in satisfaction that people weren't ignoring him, he turned and took a few steps away, then vanished, leaving behind a crystal of benevolessence. As Lyra allowed it to pass through her chest, she heard Aquila touch down behind her.

"You have done well. Thanks to your intervention, a mortal soul has made its peace, and is now at rest. You will be returning to the Observatory post-haste, no doubt?"

"Yes, master," she said, having decided that her mortal charges were safe for now, and she could afford to leave them a while. Aquila nodded.

"Then I shall bid you farewell. I have much to do here in the…"

They both looked up as an ethereal glow passed over them. Above their heads was a velvety black sky with scattered diamonds for stars, and among them something carved a golden sparkle trail. Lyra thought she heard a kind of whistle.

"The Starflight Express," Aquila mused, unconsciously labelling it for her. "Indeed it has been unusually active of late. I have changed my mind. I shall accompany you to the Observatory after all, Lyra."

On the other side of the world, in the deepest recesses of a dungeon, a figure sat hunched. He had lost track of how long it'd been since he saw another living thing, just sitting there with chains wrapped around almost every part of him, cutting his skin almost to the bone after so long. Glowing symbols adorned the floor, along with grime and filth, yet they remained as bright as they had been when he was first put in there, keeping him weak for the longest time. And weak he looked – every breath was inhalation of the stench of urine, burning his lungs and throat and making his eyes water almost continuously, giving the appearance of sorrowful tears. No. Not sorrowful. Moving for the first time since arrival, he raised his head to stare at the ceiling. All the hate and misery and bitterness he'd fostered was about to pay off, and he was going to punish the ones who had caused it. Oh, yes. They would never know what hit them.

Lyra was immensely surprised to find both Aquila and Apus Major beneath Yggdrasil when she arrived, having managed to avoid Solaris on the way up. Where he was, she didn't know. But that could wait. Now, she was presented with this unusual situation that wasn't going to be explained unless she asked questions.

"Well met, Lyra," said her master, beckoning with an uncharacteristic excitement. "Truly, you have chosen a fortuitous moment to join us."

Standing beside him, Lyra realised that the tree had begun to glow with the same light she'd seen during her last offering. That glow intensified with her presence, strangely enough.

"Behold, Yggdrasil. She is ready to burst into fruit with all the benevolessence we have offered unto Her."

Both of her superiors seemed positively ecstatic, but she didn't really see why. Still, this was a part of her wider duty as a Celestrian, and she was happy to comply.

"'Fyggbloom hails the opening of the Heavenly Gates, and sets The Celestrians on the path to salvation…'" Apus Major said.

"'And lo,'" Aquila picked up where he'd left off. "'It shall be in the celestial carriage that we, the chosen custodians, journey unto the Realm of the Almighty.'"

He looked down at her.

"It is time, Lyra. Offer the benevolessence you have gathered unto mighty Yggdrasil. Do so, and She shall surely bear fruit at last."

Now beginning to share their enthusiasm, Lyra stepped forward and took the crystals in her hands, then gave them a gentle push towards the World Tree. Her hands turned to silhouettes as Yggdrasil became a beacon of gold light, but it wasn't harsh, and she felt no need to cover her eyes save for the sheer glory of what she was witnessing. Then, the light travelled up in the branches, gathering in seven glowing orbs, which then turned to some kind of fruit.

"Behold!" said Apus Major from the left. "The sacred fyggs bloom!"

The light was now only coming from the celestial fruit, and for a moment all was peaceful. Then Lyra's ears pricked up, as she heard that same whistle from the village. Sure enough, a quick investigation of the sky revealed the Starflight Express hurtling towards them like a comet, making a pass around the Observatory before hovering above them.

"Praise be! All is as it was foretold!"

They continued to watch the celestial chariot as it descended to the ring of pillars, where they could easily reach it. Lyra was a fair bit more excited now, seeing the fruits of her labours, quite literally in some sense, and knowing that it was all paying off. Aquila looked at her, and gestured towards the train, perhaps inviting her to go first.

Lyra's eyes became momentarily useless as something flashed blindingly, and a roar crashed against her eardrums. She instinctively raised her arms to protect her head, even though she was still blind, but then she found Aquila beside her, using one of his wings to shield them both from the glare. In-between feathers, she saw the carriages of the Starflight buckling upwards and coming apart with a metallic shriek that she felt rather than heard, and each then dropped like a stone into the Protectorate below. Stunned and in shock, Lyra just stared after them, thus she was blinded once more when a second, third, and fourth bright purple beam smashed through the clouds, taking chunks out of the Observatory's walls and flinging them up into the black, now starless heavens. Finally regaining some small amount of common sense, Lyra hit the deck just as Aquila had done moments before, and clung to the nearest object, which happened to be a root. He, on the other hand, had nothing to stop him from joining the debris in its ascent, though he seemed to be far away enough from the beams that he wasn't badly affected. A fifth and final beam had sliced through the stonework below them, and the platform shifted dangerously, making Lyra gasp in fear. While she had wings, she'd be unable to fly to safety with that thing so nearby.

"Wh-What is the meaning of this?" she heard Apus Major say from somewhere nearby, though it was difficult to make out over the roar of the beam. "Were we…deceived?"

The pull seemed to grow stronger by the moment, and Lyra was hard-pressed to keep herself flat on the grass. Then she went rigid, as her hand had just slipped. Fear made her grip even harder than before, but this was not enough, and she was suddenly flipped upwards, as if gravity had changed direction and was now pulling her into the bottomless sky.

"Master!" she cried, not even daring to reach out should she lose her grip. Aquila responded immediately, darting towards her and hanging onto one of the pillars, straining to reach his apprentice. Though every instinct within her screamed otherwise, she let go with one hand to take his.

Her right hand.

Her strong hand.

In moments, the weak fingers on her left hand gave way, and she was yanked upwards into the sky, still reaching for her master. Lyra screamed for all the good it would do her as she turned head over heels in her violent ascent, like a ragdoll in the grip of an angry child. In moments, the crackling light of the beam had filled her vision, and her somersaulting came to an abrupt stop as it pulled her further up, making her face outwards. The first thing she noticed through the haze of panic and desperation was a burning smell, then pain in her wings. Her hands went to them, but then there was a horrible wrenching, a series of cracks, and the breath was knocked out of her as something came off and agony ripped along her back. She had no breath, and therefore couldn't scream, only staring at the heavens with tears evaporating off her cheeks in the extreme heat. Then the beam was gone, and gravity returned to normal. Lyra didn't fight the darkness that rose up to meet her, watching as the Observatory soared away into the heavens, as she plummeted towards the Protectorate.


	3. Chapter 3

It was an unpleasant notion – the very thing that had caused her unconsciousness now dragged her back to the real world. As Lyra forced her eyes open, she was met with blinding light, and for a moment went into a panic, believing it to be the beams that had knocked her out of the sky. But no, she realised, it was only daylight spilling through the shutters of a window to her left. Now that she had calmed a little, she could take in the rest of her surroundings: the rough linen bedclothes that surrounded her; the cream plastered walls; the wooden floor; the embroidered tulips mounted on the wall above a dresser; the door beside this dresser. Birdsong drifted through the gaps in the shutters, reminding her of the day when she'd been made Guardian. When she'd been with Aquila. Before she could start crying from the shock of it all, however, the door opened, and Erinn poked her head round.

"Hey. I thought I heard you moving."

Watching the girl as she closed the door behind her and set down a beaker of water on the bedside table, Lyra frowned at her, wondering if this was some odd dream. Mortals weren't able to see Celestrians. So why was Erinn talking to her directly? No, actually, she had more pressing matters, but worried that she lacked the strength even to speak. Still, she tried anyway.

"Where am I…?"

Her voice was so gravelly and raw that she wondered for a moment if it was someone else who'd spoken. Erinn, however, was unfazed.

"You're in my house. I found you a couple of days ago at the base of the falls, and I couldn't just leave you there."

Since the pain that now seeped through her was real enough, Lyra was willing to assume that this was not a dream, and somehow a mortal could see her. Fair enough. But what really bothered her was the fact that she was lying flat on her back, without feeling the tickle of her wings against her fingers. Come to think of it, they weren't flattened beneath her, nor were they protruding from underneath the bedclothes. Worried, Lyra rolled onto her side and searched her backplane with a trembling hand, stretching it as far as it would go. But she found nothing.

"Mirror," she said, her already weak voice cracking with panic. "Mirror!"

Looking concerned, Erinn offered a hand mirror, which Lyra took and used it to peer over her shoulder. While it didn't do much good and she'd need two mirrors to see properly, it became quite clear that there was nothing sticking out of her back like there had been before. She couldn't even feel the joints that should've been nestled between her shoulder blades – only an empty space. And, turning the mirror up, Lyra's tear-blurred eyes found that she'd not only lost her wings, but her halo as well. She was shaking too much to continue holding the mirror, and it chipped as it clattered to the floor. Lyra curled up in bed, clutching herself as her shoulders heaved with sobs. Despite Erinn's attempts to find out what was wrong, all she got were tears and a horrible wailing that made her shiver. The wingless Celestrian was inconsolable.

It wasn't until the next day that Lyra decided it was time to stop wallowing and do something useful. Or, at least, that was how long it took to force herself out of bed. Even walking was a problem – from birth, she'd had extra weight on her back, and had thus learned a gait that accommodated for it. Now, she had to unlearn what had been drummed into her for centuries and walk like a human, which meant stumbling between the bed and dresser for an hour or so. By the time she was done, she could get around relatively well, but still felt like a gentle breeze would knock her over and soon got into a habit of using the walls for support. She left the room to explore, but came across something that made her stomach turn. In a wicker basket were her Celestrian clothes, every single bit ruined by blood. Black and brown stains were splattered all over what was left of it and any of the leather that could've been saved had turned blotchy with water damage. The whole outfit looked like it'd been slashed to bits. Lyra stared at it for a while, feeling more than uncomfortable in her mud-brown woollen smock that fell to her knees. Still, it was all she had, and she wasn't going to learn to walk again by sitting around feeling sorry for herself.

No one saw her slip on a pair of sandals and venture outside, though she did get a few odd looks from a couple of women drawing water at the well, who seemed to think she was infectious and kept their distance. Ignoring them, Lyra made her careful way onwards, up the path and into the rose garden with the statue. Sitting down on a wrought iron bench amid the flowers, listening to the birds, she felt a bit better about everything. Even so, when her eyes strayed to the statue, she was reminded of what she'd lost, and what she still had to lose. Aquila and Apus Major had been outside with her when the Observatory was attacked – had they escaped harm? Or had they also been thrown from above with their wings torn off, haloes shattered? What about Columba? Lyra even felt concern for her brother's safety. What had happened to them all? As if summoned to comfort her, furry warmth began rubbing itself against her bare legs, purring madly. Lyra noted that it was the same cat – a blue-eyed ragdoll with black ears, nose and socks – that had helped her find that old lady's ring in the recent past. She smiled and let it carry on rubbing, being careful that she didn't kick it by accident.

"Hey, look. It's that girl that turned up the other day."

The cat wandered off into the garden, leaving her with Ivor and Hugo, the former of whom seemed intent on making her miserable. Lyra stood and made to go past them, but the exit was so narrow that she'd have to rub herself against them like the cat had been doing to her legs in order to escape.

"I don't know," Ivor said, folding his arms. "Why would Erinn bother with the likes of her? She won't tell us where she's from, her hair is a weird colour…I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her."

"I bet it's her name that's got Erinn so keen," Hugo concurred. "It's the same as the village Guardian's, after all."

Ivor put his hands on his hips and laughed dryly.

"Ha! I doubt it's even her real name. I bet she's just some no good wandering minstrel that took on a Guardian's name to get a free lunch."

"Please," Lyra winced, head bowed and knees touching. "I don't want trouble…"

"Well," Ivor continued, ignoring her. "Listen, oddball! I won't let you get away with any funny business on my patch!"

And by funny business he meant…? Lyra supposed he was just saying that because he wanted her gone. Hugo supported this theory, but with something he evidently wasn't supposed to say.

"Yeah, watch your step! Ivor doesn't like Erinn giving you all her attention!"

Ivor nodded, then he seemed to process what had just been said, turned round and walloped Hugo in the ear.

"Ow!"

"You idiot!" he seethed. "Why would you say that?!"

Lyra whimpered and edged back, not wanting any part in this. However, salvation came from an unexpected source, as when the two boys turned in response to an irritated 'ahem', they stiffened upon seeing a very cross Erinn.

"What's going on?" she demanded, glaring at Ivor in particular. "What are you bothering Lyra for?"

"Uh…" he stammered, before finding his voice. "Hi, Erinn! We were teaching Lyra a few village rules. Anyway, we were just leaving."

He barged past her, this being Hugo's cue to follow. Lyra breathed out, feeling the weight of attention being lifted from her shoulders.

"I don't know why he's so full of himself these days," Erinn mused, though she sounded sad. "He never used to be like that. Anyway, you must be feeling better if you're out walking around."

Lyra nodded, trying to smile but finding that she grimaced instead. Maybe it was a bit too soon for that. Erinn rubbed her arm sympathetically.

"Well don't push yourself too hard, okay? I'll see you for later."

And with that, she was left alone in the garden. Before she could indulge in thinking too much, she decided to wander around the village, if not to practice walking then to let everyone know she was there, and they'd hopefully get used to her faster. That way she'd be accepted earlier. However, her hopes were dashed, as no one wanted to know and they acted as if she had three heads or something. What made it worse was the fact that they had, until so recently, been her mortal charges, and were grateful for her presence. Now they shunned and rejected her. Well, perhaps this was down to them not believing that she was the village Guardian, but it still hurt when she got distrustful glares from people she once loved and protected. Only the pets and children really liked having her around, and she was invited to play hide and seek while their parents were working in the lumber mill. Due to her silvery white hair, she was always found first, but didn't mind. Unfortunately, when evening came and the parents saw their children playing with a stranger, they hurried them away and gave her such looks that she wished the ground would swallow her up. With the play session over, local pets were her only company. And so too was the wildlife, apparently – a robin sat quite comfortably in her hand, unafraid that she might try to hurt it, and a fox just wandered past as if she was another animal. This made her feel much better. But night was beginning to fall and her legs felt boneless, so Lyra rose from the bench and retreated back to Erinn's house. Inside, the girl was cooking something in a saucepan that smelled rather inviting, and on the counter beside her were plates of grilled vegetables, some sort of fish and a loaf of bread.

"Hello, Lyra," she said, ladling the contents of the saucepan into three bowls. "I've just this minute finished preparing the food. I'll bet your hungry after your walk."

"Hungry?"

Lyra honestly hadn't thought about food. Yes, she ate like the mortals did, but she'd never tried their cuisine and Celestrians didn't need much sustenance anyway. Even so, her stomach gurgled, and she turned bright red as she clutched herself to stifle the noise.

"It sure sounds like it," Erinn smiled. Then she held out some cutlery. "Could you help me lay the table? You can rest as soon as we're finished eating. Don't worry."

Surprised but compliant, Lyra set down the knives and forks and took her seat next to Erinn's grandfather. In truth, she was excited by all the smells and flavours, and wanted to try everything, but reigned herself in so as not to appear greedy or rude. Erinn said it was okay, as she needed to keep her strength up to recover from her injuries. At this, Lyra felt her head tilting forward, hands clasping in her lap.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Hm? For what?"

"Thank you for helping me."

Erinn smiled again.

"It's alright. You just focus on getting better, okay?"

The corner of Lyra's mouth twitched upwards.

"Okay."

By the next morning Lyra was feeling much, much better. Pulling on a man's clothing for mobility, and breaking in the spare boots that were kindly donated by one of the villagers, she began to feel like her old self, even before going downstairs for breakfast. While the loss of her wings and halo weighed heavily on her, she found that the despair had let up enough for her to function normally, unless she curled up in bed and thought about it, which she thus avoided like the plague. Yes, she still had difficulty smiling or finding happiness in things she used to enjoy, but it was definitely better than it was. However, she had no reason to be happy when she noticed Ivor loitering in the doorway, watching her. Ugh, didn't he have something better to do? Well, considering he was doing this with Erinn nearby, maybe he didn't intend to be a bully like yesterday. When she spotted him after clearing up the plates, Lyra stared for a while, unsure what to do. He nodded guardedly, then inclined his head outside. Not seeing the problem – she could just come back inside if he kicked up a fuss – she elected to follow, and joined him round the side of the house.

"Here's the thing," he began. "You know how the earthquake recently caused a landslide?"

She hadn't known that, but nodded all the same.

"Well, it blocked a mountain pass that links us to Stornway. That pass is a lifeline for us here. It's a real problem for Eri- I mean, for everyone."

His slight blush indicated that he hadn't been thinking of everyone when he came calling.

"So I'm thinking 'What better time for Ivor to come to the rescue?'. I'm going to go and clear the landslide and make the road passable again. Only thing is there's been a lot of monster activity recently, and I need a bodyguard. You minstrels are pretty good in a scrap, right?"

Lyra blinked, processing his words and their meaning. She'd hardly been able to lift her head a few days ago, yet he wanted her to protect him from monsters? To be fair she was recovering very fast indeed, but she still needed time to practice and train before she was anything like ready. And she told him just this.

"Fine," he said, annoyed. "We'll get some stuff together, then go out and practice. If you're up to it, we go to the mountain pass."

Now this was a good plan. Not too sophisticated, but good all the same. And he was the mayor's son, so he could afford to get her some decent armour and a weapon. So, if she was unable to fight, they'd come straight back. If she was strong enough to protect him, they'd continue into the mountain pass. No frills, no problems. Even so, she felt just a little guilty leaving without telling Erinn, as her primary caregiver at the moment would likely try to stop her. That could easily be avoided.

The blacksmith didn't have a very high opinion of Lyra due to her short, childish stature. However, he had a good eye for what type of armour would be best, and she was soon buckling on her brand new leather cuirass, boots and gauntlets. There were weaknesses at her joints where she only had cloth to protect her, but there wasn't much she could do about this until she got hold of some chainmail, and even then it'd probably be too heavy for her. Her shield was basically a few planks of wood covered in leather, but it was definitely better than nothing, and she took it gratefully. And last, but by no means least, her sword. Having lost her original copper blade in the fall from the Observatory, Lyra found something more her size: a steel dirk with a broad, two foot long blade that was more like a giant knife than anything else. Anything thinner would have snapped easily, and anything longer would have been unwieldy. While she didn't look that formidable, she felt a bit safer than before in her new gear. When they were done at the blacksmith, they stopped by the village shop to pick up some essentials like food and drink, and some bandages in case either of them were injured. Lyra also got a woollen cloak with a hood, for rainy days. Then they were setting off towards the gate, bold as brass, only to be stopped by Hugo, who quickly crumbled under Ivor's snarking manner. He somewhat reminded Lyra of her brother, and she had to quickly bury this thought before she did something silly like cry.

Outside the village, there certainly was increased monster activity. Slimes and cruelcumbers ran rife, but there was also sacksquatches, batterflies and bodkin archers about. These things seemed to be more in the business of scaring travellers than actually attacking them, though the two got in a good deal of practice. Lyra was sad that she had to take life, and combat still muddled her thoughts, but considering what'd happened less than a week ago she was doing pretty well. For about half an hour they trekked through the woods, until the road led them up a series of hills towards what must've been the mountain pass.

"This is it," Ivor confirmed as they rounded a corner. "Finally! The landslide's somewhere around here, apparently."

He took a few steps up the path, but Lyra was no longer accompanying him. She was too busy staring at the giant front carriage of a steam engine that was just sitting there in a bed of crushed foliage. It was undeniably part of the Starflight Express, but it had gone a sad, pale colour, and looked a bit battered after its fall, not to mention being hit by those beams. Lyra shivered as she remembered it.

"What are you staring at?"

Ivor turned towards the Starflight, and looked straight through it.

"It's just a fallen tree. I don't get what's so fascinating about it. You can be properly weird sometimes, you know that? Now come on."

Shaking her head and tearing herself away, Lyra followed Ivor up a steep incline, and away from the carriage. Another part of the mortals' frailty was apparently that they couldn't see certain things, the Starflight being one of them. Well, she supposed that maybe it wasn't frailty – just precautions. From what she had already seen, mortals had the capacity to be selfless, compassionate and kind, but they could also be cruel, sadistic and vain. When He created them, the Almighty had to make room for every atrocity that could possibly be committed, in case a mortal should take such a thing upon themselves. That was their greatest strength and weakness: they were both good and evil. But this meant that keeping them away from objects of great power was a good idea, in case one of the bad ones got hold of them. Realising that she was thinking too much again, Lyra jogged after Ivor, only to find him staring up at a small mountain of rubble.

"This is it?" He stepped back so he didn't fall over while staring upwards. "But it's so much bigger than I imagined. We'll never be able to move this on our own. Stupid landslide!"

His shoulders began to quiver.

"And I was all ready to see Dad's face when I came back to the village a hero…"

He sniffed loudly, wiping his face. Lyra felt so sorry for him that she almost offered up comforting words, but she was soon distracted when he kicked the rubble in frustration, only for it to shift inwards. Ivor yelped, leaping back and freezing in a rather bizarre position that made him look like he'd spotted a poisonous insect.

"Hello?" said a muffled voice. "Is somebody there?"

"Yes," Lyra called out as Ivor pulled himself together. "We are villagers from Angel Falls."

"Jings!" said the voice, probably to a colleague. "Did you hear that? Someone from Angel Falls! We're soldiers from Stornway, sent by King Schott to clear the landslide."

"Blimey," Ivor said, fixing his hair as he regained some small measure of dignity. "The King must really rate Angel Falls to bother helping like that. We should probably go back to the village and tell everyone."

That sounded good.

"I suppose we're not really needed here, then. Huh! Now I wish we hadn't come all the way out here."

Lyra grimaced – they hadn't been that useless. Letting everyone know that King Schott was helping out would lift their spirits, and no one had gotten hurt in their little adventure, so she wouldn't agree with Ivor in saying that their trip was wasted.

"Wait!" one of the soldiers said. "Have you seen a lass named Patty? She works at the Quester's Rest in Stornway, but went to visit Angel Falls and didn't return. Rumour has it she went through the Hexagon, but the path there has been blocked too so we've no way of knowing where she is."

Ivor frowned, as if racking his brains, then shrugged.

"Nope. Doesn't ring any bells. Why would she want to come all the way out to our village anyway?"

"She must have had a good reason," Lyra mused. This Hexagon place sounded most unpleasant.

"The rumours must be wrong," Ivor told the landslide.

"Aye, well…do you think you could let your mayor know the landslide will be cleared soon?"

At this, he grinned, having found something he could do. That he'd already come up with, but still.

"No problem! Just leave it to me. You can always count on Ivor. Come on," He turned to Lyra. "Home time."

She fought laughter at his expense, because she'd watched him since childhood and had never once seen him do anything of note. 'Count on Ivor'? Pah! Even so, that was mean of her, and she said nothing.

Unfortunately for them it had started raining, and they had to make a dash for the village in attempts to remain somewhat dry, but failed and ended up drenched. They took shelter in the smithy and dried their clothes a bit by the forge, so they wouldn't be dripping too much on the mayor's floor when they eventually got to his house. It was a little better furnished than the homes of the other villagers, but was still quite plain and simple, and the only good rugs had been hung on the walls because they were too valuable to walk on. Angel Falls was a relatively poor community, after all. The two met Mayor Litlun in the main room, and though he didn't seemed awfully surprised at their dampness, his reaction to their explanation was unexpected to say the least.

"I see," he mused, rubbing his beard. "So, the soldiers will have the pass cleared soon."

"That's right," Ivor boasted, puffing out his chest proudly. "Everyone will be relieved to hear the news. Ivor saves the day, eh?"

Litlun glared at them.

"Don't be ridiculous! You were foolish to go all the way out there, just the two of you. Foolish!"

Lyra bowed her head automatically and mumbled that she was sorry. Ivor, on the other hand, looked like he'd been slapped.

"B-But! Why are you so angry? If we hadn't gone to the landslide, you'd never have known it was about to be cleared."

"So what? If I didn't know now, I'd have found out soon enough. Knowing a little bit sooner is hardly worth risking your life for. That's why I'm angry. That's why you're foolish."

He was absolutely right, of course. Lyra hadn't thought of all that. She understood now that she should've found some way of persuading Ivor to stay put, and she had probably worried Erinn for nothing.

"Gah!" Ivor stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Fine! Oh, yeah, the soldiers wanted us to find some girl named Patty that was on her way here but went missing."

"Wait a minute!"

All eyes turned to Erinn, who'd just burst in and was staring at Ivor.

"Is that true?" she asked.

"Erinn!" He went as red as a tomato. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think? I'm here because you whisked Lyra off on some silly adventure!"

Lyra felt her guts turn to water, but continued to listen anyway.

"But is it true that Patty from Stornway is missing?" Erinn pressed, looking more worried by the minute.

"Ah yes," Litlun said thoughtfully. "You were originally from Stornway, weren't you? Do you know the woman?"

She nodded.

"I think I remember my dad talking about someone called Patty from his days in Stornway. Oh dear! Maybe she didn't know he'd passed away and was coming to visit him."

"Hm." The mayor seemed indifferent. "Well, I understand your concern, but we can't very well send out a search party with no leads."

"The soldiers said something about the Hexagon," Lyra piped up, trying to be helpful, though her attempt fell quite flat.

"Is that so? We can't be of help anyway, then. The Hexagon is far too dangerous. Erinn, why don't you take Lyra home now? I'd appreciate a bit of privacy so I can talk some sense into this pig-headed son of mine."

Ivor went red again, making an odd noise in his throat.

"Th-There's no need for that, dad!"

In some ways, Lyra was grateful that she and Erinn left before the earful was delivered, though she didn't dare lift her head until the appropriate apologies had been accepted.

"I was so worried when I heard you'd left the village, Lyra," Erinn said when they reached the house. "But you seem unscathed, though. You're obviously a lot tougher than I thought."

She bit her lip.

"Speaking of which, um…I was wondering if I could ask you a favour, Lyra. You see, I'm quite worried about all this talk of Patty going missing, so I was wondering if…"

She shook her head more vigorously than was necessary.

"Oh, never mind. I can't possibly ask that much of you. The Hexagon is far too dangerous."


	4. Chapter 4

The Hexagon was appropriately named, as every single part of the structure was made of rough, hexagonally-shaped stonework. Even the bits that'd fallen down retained their shape. Pools of glowing, viscous liquid were dotted around, and judging by the blackened dead grass in a ring around them, stepping in would be ill-advised. But Lyra drew back from them mostly because of the smell, which burned her windpipe and put a metallic taste in her mouth.

She'd known what Erinn was going to ask, so did a bit of work in the village shop and used the money she earned to get supplies for the journey. Asking around had revealed that the old ruins were south of the mountain pass, and after leaving the village she had to turn right at the fork in the road, instead of left, the way she and Ivor had gone. It hadn't been too difficult to find, if she was quite honest, though wandering around on her lonesome was a bit miserable to put it bluntly. Still, this was something she could do to help the people of Angel Falls, without requiring her wings or halo. She could continue to help people, to be the village Guardian. This gave a sense of duty and purpose, stopping her from hiding in her room again. Plus it didn't bear thinking about what might happen to Patty if no one came to help her, assuming she was in there.

Upon arriving, Lyra had quickly figured out why the mountain pass had been constructed, as the Hexagon looked ready to topple like a house of cards. Almost no light penetrated the gloom that she was forced to venture into, and water dripped continuously, adding to the inch or so that she had to wade through on the lower platforms. Ascending a set of steps, she found a statue and a sort of plinth, upon which was a tablet that read 'Area ahead sealed due to large-beast-related fatalities'. Lyra wrinkled her nose; that sounded simply delightful. Unfortunately, there didn't appear to be any way past it, and it continued to block the way forward. Stepping back so she could think about it, Lyra felt a chilly breeze crawl across the back of her neck. She rubbed and looked over her shoulder. Barely able to stifle a gasp, she watched as a blue-tinged, transparent individual motioned to the statue, staring at her and mouthing something that she couldn't make out. Moments later, he vanished as if he'd never been. Lyra had only been able to take in the fact that he'd had a satchel hanging from his shoulder. Blinking and shaking her head, she tried to figure out what just happened, and what the ghost had been trying to tell her. Something about the statue…? Frowning, she ran her hands over its damp surface, unsure what exactly she hoped to find but not having any better ideas.

Clunk!

One of her fingers touched something that seemed to protrude from the statue's neck, and applying gentle pressure made the strange noise. Moments later, the tablet and plinth rumbled sideways, opening the way for her.

"Huh," she mused, peering into the darkness. "Clever."

Actually, it wasn't that clever if she really thought about it, which she tried not to but couldn't stop herself. If she'd been desperate enough and searched the whole area thoroughly, she would have found it. Perhaps it was to deter the more casual explorer. It must have been a very recent edition, perhaps put in place just after the mountain pass had been carved out. That would make sense – stopping people from using a dangerous route because there was a better, safer one not far off. But it bothered her; the way only opened from the outside. What if there were lost travellers on the inside? They'd be trapped. Was it meant to keep people out? Or was it meant to keep something in?

Lyra shook her head. These thoughts were getting her nowhere and she needed to concentrate on finding Patty.

The shape of the rooms stayed the same no matter how far in she ventured, though they were far from deserted, as she soon found out. The tenants included mecha-mynahs, bags o' laughs, firespirits and drackies. The last of these were bat-like demon creatures she met in huge swarms that filled the room if she disturbed them. She had to take down many, using her shield to bash them away and her sword if they came in to attack, and eventually she managed to scare off the majority. The mecha-mynahs, however, were more persistent. They were mechanical birds that bore some resemblance to robins and chased her relentlessly until she hacked them apart. Well, considering they were made of metal, it was more just hitting them until they stopped moving. Lyra worried that her sword would be blunted by all the whacking she currently used it for.

She checked all the rooms, all the corridors, but found no signs of life, aside from the monsters, and they mostly scattered after witnessing her in combat – she clearly wasn't some walk-over travelling villager. On and on she searched, for what must have been hours, but still nothing. Then, as the sun began to creep towards the horizon and the ruins became ever darker, Lyra thought she heard something. By then she'd lit a torch that she had bought from the village shop, and held it out in front of her, moving this way and that, scanning the immediate surroundings for a threat. It also attracted some unexpected attention.

"Hello?" came an echoing voice from somewhere in the dark. "Is anyone there?"

The voice was female. Could it be…?

"Hello!" Lyra shouted in response. "Where are you?"

"In here!"

Following the voice alone wasn't easy due to the echoes, but she soon found herself in a larger room with painted ceramic tiles for floor and bindweed crawling up the walls, cracks appearing under the slow but sure grip of time and nature. And there, right in the centre, a figure lay half buried beneath some rubble, yanking with all their might but remaining trapped. It was a woman in her mid-twenties with blue-black hair and slim eyes, sporting a low-cut red dress with bell sleeves that hung almost off her shoulders. Hearing Lyra's approach, and seeing the orange glow of her torch, she looked up.

"Hey, sweetie, you couldn't be a hero and shift some of this rubble, could you?"

Lyra nodded, set down the torch and knelt by her. Her accent suggested a background in Stornway, so there was little doubt that this was Patty. And how could she dare leave someone who was trapped?

"Are you hurt?" she asked, hoping to assess any damage. Patty looked back at the rubble, her face drawn and pale.

"My leg…"

So she was injured? That would complicate things – just getting out was going to be a problem, never mind the trip back to the village. Still, Patty couldn't help it if she was hurt, and she wasn't going anywhere without help. Picking up the torch again, Lyra peered at the rubble, trying to figure out where the woman's legs were underneath it all, so that if she started pushing then she wouldn't put any more weight on the injury. Two slabs of what looked like wall formed a triangular prism, so she assumed they were on top of a limb.

"Hold still," she said as she grabbed hold of one of the slabs and hauled outwards. Despite it only being one brick in thickness, she marvelled that Patty hadn't been entirely crushed if these things had fallen on her. It seemed a bit far-fetched to be pure luck, but then again, this probably wasn't the best time to question such things. Grunting with effort, Lyra finally shoved the slab off of Patty's legs, it hitting the floor with a painfully loud crash.

"Come on," the woman urged, eyes darting about the room. "I don't want to be here when that thing comes back."

"What thing?"

Oh, what it was to tempt Fate.

Before she'd even completed the final syllable, the ground shook and dust spilled from the cracked ceiling above, making her cough and splutter as she tried to make out the approaching threat. Now, it wasn't down to stealthy attack that something knocked the wind out of and sent her through a wall and into the fading daylight, but it was more down to suddenness and surprise. All she'd noticed prior to getting hit in the stomach was a thunderous crashing, the very stone beneath her feet vibrating, and a sense of impending doom. Then she was totally focused on the pain of being punched through a brick wall, bouncing twice over whatever the ground was made of, then skidding to a halt with her back slamming into a corner of a hexagonally-shaped pillar. Lyra gave a strangled yelp and drew into herself, biting back tears of agony. Then she gritted her teeth and got onto all fours, trying to assess the damage. It was hard to concentrate while her body seemed to think that feeling pain would help her, but it was clear that there weren't any broken bones, otherwise she probably wouldn't have been able to support her own weight. Her right shoulder and left knee felt like they were on fire, so there were likely fractures in there, but other than that she was mostly unharmed, if a bit dazed. Using the pillar as a crutch, she hauled herself into a standing position and drew her blade, turning back to the hole that she had just come from.

The hole soon became the least of her concerns, though, as the thing that had attacked her was not satisfied with that singular wallop and had come back for more. Whatever it was, it seemed to be a mix of bull and rhinoceros with its sheer mass, and ram-like horns on either side of its head. The bones in its spine stuck up through flesh and the hide looked nigh impenetrable – a mountain of muscle. It fixed its beady purple eyes on Lyra, who was just standing there like a lemon, and it growled, pawing the flagstones.

The courtyard they were in kept the hexagon theme, the pillars at each corner seeming to support the crumbling remains of an aqueduct, which was now covered in moss and bindweed that filled the channel, as if trying to imitate the water that no longer flowed there. The whole area was surrounded by a wall, and atop that a wrought iron fence that would have been very difficult to scale. Shadows lengthened in the setting sun, throwing black lines across the courtyard and giving the situation a very surreal look.

With a guttural roar, the creature charged straight at the gawking Celestrian, who could only try to get out of the way by moving at the very last moment. She winced at an ear-splitting crack, then glanced over her shoulder. The beast was shaking its head, as if in annoyance, detaching its horns from the stone wall to make another charge. There was nowhere to run, and scaling the aqueduct wouldn't help, as it could easily be knocked down. It seemed that her only choice was the most ridiculous one: all-out attack. But how the hell would she go about this without getting crushed? There wasn't an awful lot of time to think about it, as her foe had righted itself and was already coming in for another charge. Cursing under her breath, Lyra ran straight at it, trying to get as firm a grip on her sword as possible and holding it with two hands, sacrificing her shield. When they were close enough that she was sure she'd be tossed backwards like a sack, she swung sideways at the creature's ribs, feeling the blade skittering over the ladder-rungs of bone, then kept on running until there was some good distance between her and her enemy. She thought that she'd aimed too high the moment she struck, and it was made clearer when she turned to check the damage. All she'd done was make a long line of red slits, which seemed to anger the creature rather than slowing it down. It immediately turned and came in for another charge. This time, however, there was no plan, and it was only Lyra's training that saved her – she swung her body in the direction of the blow, softening it enough that it only cracked a few of her ribs, which were awfully flimsy in comparison to those of her enemy. Despite having salvaged her life, she slammed into a wall, her head jerking in a whiplash motion, and she almost lost consciousness.

Groaning, she got to her feet and staggered, near blinded by the pain. A dark blur rushing towards her provoked the fight reaction, and she held out her sword as if to threaten it into retreat. Due to the incredible momentum it had built up, it couldn't stop itself, and the blade sank deep into its eye socket. Lyra covered her ears as it bellowed in agony, a small river of crimson painting the flagstones. Well, she'd lost her sword – it was still lodged in the creature's skull – so she had to find some other way of defending herself. Searching the immediate vicinity, she noticed that one of the pillars had come off of its plinth and was propped up by some rubble, near to where the creature stumbled back and forth, shaking its head and continuing to bellow. Not seeing a better option, Lyra dashed to the pillar, braced her good shoulder against it and started to push. It felt much heavier than it likely was, and she had to really strain to shift it even an inch, but her Celestrian strength prevailed. With a yell of effort, she shoved the pillar off its supports, and it came crashing down on the beast, which sort of whimpered as it was pinned to the ground.

Breathing out, Lyra approached. Her attacker was kicking desperately at the ground in front of it, trying to stand up, but its back legs were shattered and it now lay trapped beneath broken pillar segments. Bending forward, Lyra grabbed the hilt of her sword and yanked it out, spraying more blood. She almost felt sorry for the creature as it gave a mournful growl, then just sat there panting, like it was waiting for the end to come. Hoping this was a mercy, she positioned the blade just over its neck, and stabbed deep through hide and flesh. The creature shuddered, then was still.

It took a while for the adrenaline to wear off, and when it did Lyra knew she'd pushed herself too hard. Everything hurt and she was trembling with exhaustion, plus many areas of her back were tender, and probably black with bruises. But she'd won a difficult battle in which she could have easily been killed, and she promised herself a day off when she got back to the village. Sighing, Lyra wiped her blade on a patch of dead grass before sheathing it, then stepped through the hole in the wall and returned to Patty, who was sitting up and in the process of getting part of her skirt out from beneath the rubble. In the end, she was forced to rip the garment in order to stand up, though she wobbled a lot and leaned on a fallen pillar for support.

"Here," Lyra pulled her into an upright position. "Let me help."

"Thanks, sweetie."

Annoyingly, the monsters took the opportunity to chase them now they'd been softened up a bit, and Lyra was often forced to wield a weapon in her left hand as she supported Patty with her right, meaning she was a lot less effective and could only scare away potential threats rather than actually taking care of them. The firespirits presented the biggest problem, as they had no physical mass and couldn't be hit per se. In the end, the last dredges of sunlight were their salvation, though they were even more battered by then and could only groan at the thought of having to walk all the way to Angel Falls with teeny sanguinis flapping around, the infernal nuisances they were. It took them close to two hours to finally reach the village, by which time it was late at night and they were both dead on their feet. Hugo was hanging around just by the gate for some reason, and he unquestioningly helped Lyra to half-drag Patty to the inn. Once inside, and once the exhausted woman had been laid down, he ran off to get the village physician. Lyra, meanwhile, sank into a chair, then winced and jerked forward again, having forgotten that her back was injured, until being reminded by the stabbing pain that took almost a full minute to die down. She took off her armour and had a look at the bits of her that hurt more than the rest, and found that most, if not all, were faded purple and blue, and it made her wince to use any joints in this state.

By the time the physician actually got there, she'd dropped off on one of the beds, and woke to find that they'd both been treated. Patty's leg was dressed and she was sipping some sort of herbal tea, which appeared to taste foul, judging by her expression. Lyra, on the other hand, had bandages on all limbs, both hands, her left foot and, more awkwardly, her shoulder. How had this happened? She couldn't have been so dead to the world that…never mind. It didn't matter. The physician, a kindly old man that lived near the inn, handed her a cup, though upon tasting its hot contents, Lyra was relieved to find that it wasn't whatever Patty was being forced to drink.

"Swap?" she offered, trying to be nice.

"Nah," the woman replied. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

The physician soon went home now that his patients were recovering and could look after themselves for a while. Lyra was able to get some shut-eye now that the pain in her back had relented somewhat, though when she next awoke, she was met with something that made her gut clench.

"Lyra!"

Erinn was suddenly at her bedside, looking cross and hurt.

"Why did you leave the village again? I was so worried! You could have been killed!"

"I'm sorry," she said feebly. "I had to."

The girl looked even more hurt, and rightly so. Lyra wasn't quite sure why she'd 'had to', but wanting to do the right thing probably wasn't a good enough reason for running headlong into danger, or at least not to a mortal. However, whatever verbal flogging she was about to receive, it was avoided entirely as Patty seemed to be examining the room, checking her bed for lice and noting the overall tidiness.

"Yep," she mused approvingly. "This is Edwinn's place alright. Nobody else could do it like him. The original host with the most."

"Who's this?" Erinn wondered aloud. Then she gave a small gasp. "Oh! You must be Patty!"

Patty smiled at her.

"That's right, honey. I can't believe you remember my name, though. You were so tiny when we last met. So…where's old Edwinn hiding then, hm?"

"Ah…" The girl turned her eyes downwards. "I thought you might've been coming to see him. I'm afraid that he's…no longer with us. It was two years ago now."

Lyra bowed her head – she'd been learning the ropes with Aquila when it had happened. The newly-orphaned Erinn had to mostly look after herself, since her grandfather wasn't up to much, and it had taken her a long time to start smiling again. Watching her anguish had been heart-breaking, and it was one of the things that made Lyra take her Guardian duties so seriously; while she perhaps couldn't stop people getting ill, she could at least prevent other tragedies. Even so, she always felt like there was something she could have done, to stop Erinn from losing both her parents. But it was not to be, and Aquila had often stopped her when she tried to help, advising if and when she should intervene. It seemed to her that a Guardian's duty was primarily to watch over their flock, though literally rather than figuratively, which had always frustrated her a little. Was it a bad thing to want to help? Well, she supposed her options in that respect were streamlined now that her wings and halo had been stripped away, but that didn't mean she was totally useless. But, at this point in time, as Patty sat there processing what she'd just heard, she had no idea what to do.

"I…I can't believe it…what does that mean for my old inn, then…?"

She seemed to think of something, and swung her legs down, so her feet touched the carpet.

"So, if Edwinn's gone, then I guess you're running this place all on your own, right?"

"Yes," Erinn seemed pleased that they had changed the subject, however slightly. "I try to honour my father's memory by keeping it running smoothly."

Patty nodded, swinging her legs back and forth.

"I wouldn't expect anything else from the daughter of the Inncredible Inntertainer, honey!"

"Um…" Erinn frowned. "About this 'Inntertainer' thing…?"

"Hey," Patty said suddenly. "I don't suppose you wanna give running an inn in Stornway a shot, do ya?"

An awed silence descended, in which both Erinn and Lyra just sat there with their mouths open. Then the former stammered,

"I beg your pardon?!"


	5. Chapter 5

"So," Erinn began, wringing her hands. "When Dad was in Stornway, people used to call him the Inncredible Inntertainer?"

Patty folded her arms and nodded.

"You better believe it, honey! He was the best of the best! He was only a young guy back then, but he set up his own inn from scratch and totally put his rivals out of business!"

"Goodness! I can't imagine him ever being like that. He was always so unadventurous, and he said he was happy to run even the smallest of inns as long as we were together."

"Yeah," Patty rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "That's the thing. Why would a guy like Edwinn choose to ship out to a hick town like this?"

Lyra bristled – she was fairly sure that the word 'hick' meant rural or unsophisticated. While it was somewhat true, to be fair, she still felt it was an entirely unnecessary thing to say. Erinn fidgeted, clearly sharing her discomfort and looking like she was doing her utmost not to flee. Seeming to realise that she was the cause for such awkwardness, Patty grimaced and continued speaking.

"Well, I guess that's water under the bridge. Anyway, his place in Stornway's in real trouble right now. We were all kinda hoping the Inncredible Inntertainer would make a comeback and get things back on track. I just can't believe I didn't know he died two years ago. I mean, gee! I'm sorry, honey."

"Not at all," Erinn was once again glad of the change of subject. "I'm just sorry you came all this way for nothing."

"Hey, no apology needed. I mean, I still got to meet you, didn't I?" At first, it sounded like a compliment, but her next words proved that it most certainly wasn't. "You're coming back with me to Stornway."

Erinn blinked, then took a nervous step back.

"Um…I'm…I'm afraid that's not possible. I have my hands full with this place as it is, and I find it hard to believe that my dad was some kind of legendary innkeeper."

"Hard to believe?!" Patty was slack-jawed for a moment. "You can't argue with the facts, honey!"

At this, Erinn suddenly took on a business-like manner.

"Oh, it's really late and I should be going home. Excuse me." She walked briskly to the door, but paused. "And I can't come with you to Stornway, so stop trying to talk me into it!"

Lyra winced as the door slammed shut behind her. Patty, however, was unfazed.

"A stubborn one, huh? Don't worry, sweetie – you'll see sense before long!"

Having no bright ideas as to what to do with herself, Lyra decided to go back to the house and rest, as Patty's outgoing personality made her a bit uncomfortable and, frankly, she didn't want to spend any more time around this woman than was absolutely necessary. Walking wasn't too much of a problem, and she felt a bit better already, but her joints still smarted when she moved them too suddenly, plus her back hadn't stopped hurting yet. At least she didn't limp, though.

As she approached the house, she slowed to a halt, frowning. A ghost lingered just outside the front door, shifting worriedly and looking as if he wanted to check what was happening inside. Quickly scanning the immediate vicinity, and finding that there wasn't anyone about, Lyra approached.

"Hello," she began.

"Waaaah!"

The ghost whirled round and ended up in a strange position, much like Ivor had done. Then he relaxed.

"You gave me a fright! Don't do that!"

"Sorry."

"Wait…" His eyes widened. "You can see me?! But I'm dead!"

"Hey," Lyra cut in, noticing the familiar satchel at his hip. "I know you. You were in the Hexagon." He nodded.

"Yes, I had a feeling you saw me. That's a strange talent you have there. Sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Edwinn, Erinn's father. I fell ill and died quite suddenly two years ago. But, as you can see, I haven't been able to move on from this mortal plane. And you are…?"

"My name is Lyra."

Edwinn gawped.

"R-Really? But isn't that…? Aren't you the village Guardian?"

Her breath caught – someone who wouldn't think she was insane for claiming that title? However, she wasn't given an opportunity to sing songs of praise, or even smile for that matter, as someone shouted from a short distance away,

"Hang on a minute!"

Lyra had time to frown in confusion before an impact punched the air from her lungs, making her stumble. A moment later, she was rubbing her smarting ribs and staring at the thing that had hit her: a caramel-skinned faerie with golden blonde curls and lively brown eyes. She wore a top that seemed to be made of orange frills, and on her lower half, black stockings that came up to the middle of her thighs.

"Ouch!" she complained, rubbing her arm. "Watch where you're flapping standing! I may be skinny as a rake, but I still need some room for manoeuvres!"

While Edwinn gawped at her, Lyra winced, staring at the bright pink insect-like wings on her back, somewhere between butterfly and dragonfly. The Celestrian's eyes stung, and she unconsciously flexed her shoulders, hoping she'd find her own wings there, but of course they weren't.

"Never mind," the faerie continued. "I forgive you." She turned to Edwinn. "So, old man, what's this rubbish you were just sprouting?"

"Um…" He seemed at a loss for words. "I don't…"

The faerie sighed irritably.

"You were on about Celestrians, right? Well, this mess of a minstrel hardly foots the bill. I don't see a halo, do you? And I don't see any wings either. A bit odd for a Celestrian, don't you think?"

"I suppose you're right," Edwinn admitted. "But, while we're on the subject of odd, who and what are you?"

"Ha!" the faerie chortled. "Wouldn't you like to know? Actually, I suppose you would, wouldn't you? Wait for it…"

She assumed a model-like pose.

"I'm the supreme, stupendous Stella, stunning skipper of the sky-roaring Starflight Express! Ta daa!"

Crickets chirped and an owl hooted somewhere.

"Um," Edwinn said. "I…see."

"Right, then," Stella turned to a gawking Lyra. "Your turn. Time to fly your true colours and tell us who you really are."

"But it's true!" She was embarrassed to find that her voice had devolved into an annoying whine. "The Observatory was attacked by beams of light, and I fell. When I woke up, my wings and halo were gone."

Stella raised a plucked eyebrow in scepticism.

"Sounds like a bit of a tall yarn, if you ask me. If you lost your wings and halo, how come you can still see ghosts and the like? A bit neither here nor there, isn't it?"

"My wings allowed me to fly," Lyra insisted. "My halo kept me invisible to mortals. That's all that has changed, I swear!"

She wasn't entirely sure why she was being such a baby, though decided it wouldn't matter unless she kept doing it, and bit her lip before she could make an even bigger fool of herself. Stella frowned in thought, then smiled.

"I know! If you think you're really a Celestrian, then prove it. Send someone's spirit up to the heavens. You've got nothing to lose, and this old bloke here is in need of a shove in the righteous direction."

Edwinn bridled slightly.

"What do you mean? Well, I'm not exactly happy as I am, but…"

"Let me guess. You're only a ghost because you have some unfinished business to be put to sleep, right?"

Stella turned to the thoroughly confused Celestrian.

"Come on then, 'Lyra'. Help this spook here tie up his loose ends and send him on his way. You do that, and I might just give you a lift to the Observatory in the old Starflight Express."

Lyra inhaled sharply. She could go home? But the Starflight had looked a little worse for wear when she found it. Could Stella really get it to work? Well, she supposed that having a friend who wouldn't think she was insane for claiming to be a Guardian was certainly better than none, so she elected to carry out this favour regardless of getting home or not. Plus she liked the idea of helping Edwinn to rest in peace.

"Oh," Stella added, fluttering closer. "By the way, I'll be tabbing along to make sure you do this legit!"

She then turned into a pink light, the size of a candle flame, and settled in one of Lyra's hip pouches. Shrugging, the Celestrian looked at Edwinn, who was scratching his head.

"Well, this is all very strange. But I do appreciate your willingness to help."

"It's no problem. But do you have any idea why you have not moved on?"

"Hm…maybe it has something to do with that thing I buried behind the inn. I believe it was under a bush."

Lyra nodded, and tried jogging a few feet across the bridge. The stabbing pain in her joints almost knocked her over, but she kept balance and rode it out, as it had lessened considerably by the time she reached her destination. Hey, the healer in the Observatory had always said to keep using injured limbs, to make sure they repaired themselves properly. It was especially true for Celestrians, due to their healing factor, which was accelerated by mortal standards, and damaged muscles that weren't under constant use could easily become stiff and weak. Lyra winced as her shoulder joined in. Yes, she knew what she had to do, but that didn't mean she had to be ecstatic about it.

Fortunately, the 'thing' that Edwinn had buried wasn't too hard to find, as there was a single bush and only a fine layer of dirt covered the object. Lyra dug it halfway out of the ground, then yanked and sat down with a bump, holding an earth-covered trophy about half her height. She wiped off the worst of the dirt so that it looked presentable, then dutifully returned to Edwinn with it.

"That's it!" he said upon seeing the trophy. "That's my Inny! Goodness, that takes me back a bit. The truth is, I hid it when I came to Angel Falls. I didn't want Erinn to know, and I didn't want to spend my life here being reminded of Stornway…"

That was quite understandable.

"Erinn's been asked to become innkeeper at your old place," Lyra said, hefting the trophy. "Do you think I should show this to her?"

"I don't see why not. I wonder how she'll react."

Nodding to him, she held the door open with her foot and let herself into the house. It was a bit of a struggle to climb the stairs with her injuries and while holding the massive Inny, but she got there eventually, and knocked on Erinn's door.

"Who is it?" said a small voice from within.

"It's Lyra. I have something to show you."

"Okay. Come on in."

Erinn's bedroom was small, neat, and very much like the person it belonged to, from the white curtains to the soft, spotless bedclothes. Erinn herself was seated at a desk in one corner, where she seemed to have been reading, though neither of the two books there were open.

"What's that?" she asked, staring at the trophy.

"It belonged to your father," Lyra explained as she handed it to her. She peered at the inscription.

"An award for being an Inncredible Inntertainer…from the king of Stornway…I don't believe it! Patty's story was all true!"

She frowned.

"I don't understand, though. Why would Dad have given all that up to come here to sleepy old Angel Falls?"

"I may be able to shed a little light on that," said a voice from the doorway.

"Grandpa?" Erinn said questioningly as the old man approached them. He sighed, then began to explain.

"Edwinn made me promise not to say anything, so I've kept it a secret all these years, but I don't see that it matters anymore. Dear Erinn…you must remember how sickly you were as a child. Your poor mother was the same. In the normal course of things, you would have become sicker and sicker as you got older. Eventually, you would have died. We lost your mother at a young age to the same fate."

"But I'm perfectly healthy," She glanced at Lyra. "I barely even remember being sick anymore."

"That's because you were brought up on the water from the falls here in this village. Angel Falls' water is famous for making people healthy and curing their ills."

Realisation began to dawn on the girl's face.

"So…what you're saying is that Dad gave up his inn in Stornway and came back here for my sake?"

"That's right," the old man nodded. "Saving his daughter was far more important to him than his own ambitions."

"But that's terrible! I stood in the way of my father and his dreams!"

The old man sighed again.

"He knew you'd feel that way. That's why he didn't want you to know. But you're mature enough now to be told the truth."

Erinn looked at the floor, biting her lip.

"You know, I always wondered why he sometimes had that faraway look on his face. Now I know… He did all that for me…"

She blinked, then stood up straight and turned to Lyra.

"Um, it looks like I'll be leaving for Stornway. I don't know if I can be of any help to Patty, but I have to at least try."

After stowing the Inny in a leather knapsack and slinging it over her shoulder, she exited the room, and ten seconds later Lyra spotted her on her way to the inn, likely to tell Patty the news.

"Well," her grandfather mused. "That was a bombshell and a half!"

Lyra smiled, and decided to go check on Edwinn. She didn't have to go far, however, as he had entered the house and was loitering by the stairs. Stella appeared next to them.

"You there, granddad?"

"I'm here," he replied. "I heard everything. I can't believe Erinn is going to follow my ambition in my place. She really has grown up. Now I have no regrets."

He looked down at his feet, which had started to become translucent.

"It looks like I'm ready to leave." He turned his eyes up, to Lyra. "Thank you so much, my honoured Guardian."

And then he wavered out of existence. Stella blinked.

"He's gone!"

Lyra nodded, and the faerie put her hands on her hips.

"So, you are a Celestrian after all. Well, a promise is a promise. I'll give you a ride back to the Observatory like we agreed, so say thanks to your lucky stars!"

She did say thanks to her lucky stars. She said thanks to every star in the sky, in fact. In a matter of hours, she'd be back at home, where she belonged. The thought had her buzzing with excitement, and with relief; not only could she return home, but she could make sure of the safety of those she cared about. Her mother, her brother, her master – she would soon know that they were safe. But then Stella kept on talking.

"Hang on to your horses a minute…shouldn't you be picking up that benevolessence?"

She tapped the floor with the toe of her red shoe.

"You can flapping see it, can't you?"

Frowning, Lyra knelt on the floor and scrabbled around, hoping she'd find the invisible benevolessence, but it seemed that not only her ability to see it was gone; it was lost to her, so much so that had she not known it was there, she'd have been totally ignorant. Like a mortal.

"I…" she stammered. "I…I can't see it. I don't know where it is."

Biting a gloss-covered lip, Stella tapped her high heels together.

"Now I'm starting to wonder again – are you really a Celestrian, or are you just pulling my chain?"

It wasn't until a good few days later that everything was prepared, and even then they had to wait for the landslide to be cleared. Once she'd finished packing and the horse and cart had pulled up by the gates, Erinn stood outside the inn with Patty, who was lucky enough to have been visited by a stranded priest that fixed her leg with a spell. Facing them were Lyra and the old man, with Ivor hanging around by a tree.

"I'll miss you, grandpa," Erinn said, holding her rucksack. "You'll take care of yourself, won't you?"

"You too, dear," he replied. "Just make sure you don't go working yourself sick."

"I know you're worried about her," Patty assured him, draping an arm around the girl's shoulder. "But I'm gonna be around to help her out, so you just relax, okay?"

Erinn tilted her head slightly as her gaze fell on the wingless Celestrian.

"Lyra, I can't thank you enough for all that you've done. It's amazing how you managed to find Dad's trophy like that. You really are a mystery. I wouldn't be surprised if you turned out to be our village Guardian after all…"

She shook her head, giggling.

"Oh, listen to me and my wild imagination! I suppose you'll be heading off to your hometown now, will you? If you find yourself in Stornway on the journey, make sure you come and stay at my new inn, won't you?"

"Of course," Lyra nodded. "I promise."

"Thanks. Well, we'd better get going, then. Goodbye everyone. And thank you all for everything!"

She and Patty stepped up into the cart, and as it trundled off through the gates, Erinn turned and waved. Lyra waved back, content that she'd made someone happy. Well, for all her bad decisions and lack of planning, things had turned out alright, hadn't they? She'd rescued Patty and sent Edwinn up to heaven, all while keeping the villagers from harm. It occurred to her that, under Aquila's steely gaze, she'd never have been allowed to get so hands on with helping mortals. In fact, the loss of her halo had actually made this easier, as she could speak to people directly, and as such, directly give them aid. But her wings were another matter entirely. She didn't think she'd ever quite get over their loss. Breaking the moment, Stella appeared from her pocket.

"Time for us to make some tracks too. You remember where the Starflight Express is?"

"Mh-hm," Lyra said, trying to appear that she was in thought, since only she could see Stella, and she didn't want everyone thinking she was mad for talking to herself.

"Come on, then. Let's head for the pass!"

During the few days of rest Lyra had granted herself, her injuries had mostly healed and getting around was no longer a problem, aside from sudden, jerky movements, which could easily be avoided. She could have gotten on the carriage with Patty and Erinn, but ultimately decided she needed to walk at her own pace, plus there was a possibility of awkward questions if she suddenly got off for no known reason. And, yes, she could have used a horse, but if the Starflight was working then she'd have to leave the poor thing in the middle of the woods with monsters about, and she wasn't prepared to do that.

It took half an hour to get there, but thankfully the Starflight was still where Lyra had seen it last, so she wouldn't have to faff around looking for it. However, it still looked a bit miserable with its white hue, plus there were scorch marks from when it fell, though Stella didn't seem to notice or care.

"All aboard!" she said cheerily as she popped up next to Lyra. Then the door miraculously opened for her, and they entered.

The inside, while dim and dull, was made of a faded bronze metal-like substance that didn't share the paleness of the outside, which confused Lyra slightly, though she decided to ignore it. At the front end of the carriage was a control panel of some kind with levers and dials, and a dozen buttons that she couldn't begin to guess the reason for.

"Pretty swish, isn't she?" Stella boasted. Then she began to look thoughtful. "I'd like to jazz her up a bit, actually. It's still a bit on the plain side in here, wouldn't you say?"

She rubbed her chin.

"I'm thinking pink rhinestones with gold around them. That'll really make the place look stellar, don't you think?"

Lyra shifted uncomfortably.

"I…I'm afraid I don't know what a rhinestone looks like and, uh…I'm not so good with interior design. You're talking to the wrong person."

"What?" She seemed offended. "Not bothered by my amazing ideas, are you?"

"It's not that! I'd just like to get home as soon as possible." Stella sighed.

"Fine, fine, no more hanging about. I'm pretty keen to get back to the Observatory myself."

She flapped over to the controls and rubbed her hands together, as if warming up.

"Alright then…" She raised her fist over a button. "Iiiiiiiiiiit's TAKEOFF TIME!"

She punched the button, but the Starflight shuddered and gave a sad wheeze before going still once again. For a moment, both she and Lyra were totally confused. Then she lifted a hand to her mouth in worry.

"Oh, flap. We have a problem."

"What's wrong?"

"I thought it would fly with a Celestrian on board…" She snapped her fingers. "Hey, you couldn't see that benevolessence before. That must be the problem!"

She hovered in front of Lyra, arms folded.

"I mean, your story's a bit tough to swallow, isn't it? Losing your wings and halo? That's a bit much."

Lyra bit a trembling lip. She'd had quite enough of people not believing her story and telling her she was a liar, no matter how indirectly. Plus they refused to even consider that fact that she'd lost something dear to her, and that she was only traumatised because of her 'fall' in the village. That's right – everyone had come to the conclusion that she'd arrived after taking a tumble over the waterfall. While getting used to walking again, she'd noticed a small crater on the riverbed, which presumably was where she had landed after falling from over a mile straight down. In all honesty, it was a surprise that no one felt the impact, much less noticed it. Breathing out, she took off her cuirass, turned round and pulled her tunic up over her head.

"H-Hey!" Stella fluttered backwards in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you proof," Lyra said grimly, showing the faerie her back. "How does it look?"

Stella's horrified silence, and the way she unconsciously reached for her wings, was all the answer required. Lyra put her clothes back on. She supposed that she was being unkind to the villagers for not seeing the crater; it was likely that she had washed ashore and they were focused on her rather than the bloody water. That would make sense.

"Okay," Stella exhaled. "I believe you. Sorry. But still, we can't afford to waste time like this. The Almighty won't be best pleased if we hang around here when big stuff's going on."

Seemingly over Lyra's injuries, she looked up at the ceiling.

"Ooooooiiii, Almighty matey! You listening? We're in a right old gherkin here, so why don't you give us a flapping hand?!"

Utter silence.

"That's weird. He's probably busy or something… Alright, Lyra. Here's what we'll do: we'll follow the road to this Stornway place. When we get there, we'll help lots of people and get loads of benevolessence. That should make that Almighty oaf prick his eyes up!"

"I…" Lyra fidgeted. "I suppose."

"What's with the expression? Not too swayed over by the idea or something?"

Stella folded her arms smugly.

"Well, tough turkey! I've decided that's what we're doing, so get moving!"


End file.
